01-27-2016, 12:43 AM
She had until sundown. If Yuki was to be believed, one hour. One hour to live. One hour to die.
She could hear the sirens of an emergency vehicle whizzing by on Diamond street a few blocks over before fading into the background noise. Salvation might as well have been on the other side of the universe.
She tried moving again. Again, her limbs refused to listen, her body twitching as if she were bound into a straightjacket. The only muscles that seemed to have anything left in them were the ones that were keeping her slumped back from collapsing completely.
Panic rose up, clawing at her throat, strangling all thought. She knew she had to relax, had to think of a way out of this, but the tentacles of terror had wrapped her up, squeezing coherent thought out, leaving nothing but a tangled jumble of chaotic fear, one thought rising above the churn:
Shit. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Oh shit.
She thought she was ready. Just get training from an old woman, no matter what the cost? What a stupid ass thing to think. She wasn't that tough, and this wasn't a cartoon. Why hadn't she really let go of that wall? Obviously, she told herself, because she believed deep down that Yuki would only hurt her. All of what she was saying and thinking before was bullshit. Saying you were ready to die was easy until you were staring down the barrel of a gun. She shivered.
Was this who she really was, underneath everything? Was this how it was going to end?
No.
The thought cut through the rest like the edge of a gleaming sword, silencing the storm. The worry, the fear, the doubt, drowned out by a singular will:
Fuck no.
What was going to happen later, she couldn't think about that. Whether Yuki was even telling the truth or not, that was pointless. All she had to do now was one thing: MOVE.
Taking a distressingly shallow breath, she tried to recall the focus from before. It was difficult. Adrenaline still surged through her veins, and though the twitching of her muscles had been muted by the stone's power, the primal urges of fight and flight still clung like annoying cobwebs to the corners of her mind. She tried to shake them off, the muscles of her brow furrowing just slightly as she strained.
Her finger twitched again. She focused all her might, all her will on that digit. She tried to visualize the movement. She tried to detach herself from the act. She tried to pretend that she was pushing with grunts and strains all the energy in her body past her wrist.
Another finger twitched, then another. It was starting to work. Beads of sweat poured down her face as she tried to lift her hand. The orb in her palm pressed down, pinning her hand to her lap. It felt like trying to lift solid lead.
Still, she managed to command her arm to move. With a wheezing groan, her entire body trembling, her eyes rolled up as she lifted the ball a fraction of an inch. It was still no good - she had to lift it above her lap before she could drop it away. Her arm abruptly gave, the hand dropping back down. She didn't feel pain - only an all-encompassing numbness, phantasmal, as if her hand and arm were barely there at all.
She panted, drenched in sweat. How long had passed? It couldn't have been more than ten minutes, could it? Her fingers haphazardly clasped around the warm stone burning with her life's essence. Her eyes crossed behind narrowed lids as she hauled, her teeth gritting weakly. The stone rose again, then again - just a little more, she repeated to herself, over and over and over, desperation and determination fusing into a white hot point, stabbed again and again into the unyielding wall before her. With each mantra, it lifted. It was above the edge of her waist now. Almost there. She just had to move it-!
Her arm dropped again, and this time, so did she. In silence her body crumpled, falling forward like a puppet with its strings cut, trapping the sphere between her stomach and hands. It pulsed warmly against her.
The sun crept lower, more and more of the courtyard falling into shadow. Her body no longer existed to her, save for the uncomfortably perceivable beating of her weakening heart and the creeping cold that pressed in. Was it happening sooner than Yuki had said? Maybe struggling had just made things worse.
So cold, she thought, as the world swam black. So cold, like that day...
~+~+~+~
Rain pounded down on the leaves overhead, soaking through and dripping in thick drops around her. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, clutching tight as the drenching cold whistled in through the thick tangle of bush branches. Her tears mixed with the rain streaking down her cheeks, her sniffles muffled as a peal of thunder cracked overhead. Was anyone looking for her? Probably not. They'd never find her, anyway. She'd ran and ran, and now even she had no idea where she was.
She cried out. And suddenly, someone answered. "Don't be afraid," the voice said, and a hand reached through a hole in the bushes. It was a voice she trusted. With a trembling hand, she reached out to take it, clasping hard. It pulled her free and into a protective arm.
"I won't let them hurt you."
~+~+~+~
Belle felt a smile curl the corners of her lips. If they hadn't been there, what would have happened? What direction would her life had taken? She had never told anyone, but what she really most wanted in the world, more than anything, even more than going home, was to see that person again. And selfishly, maybe, when she did, to be able to be the hero for them that they had been for her.
It looked like she would never get that chance. 'I'm sorry,' she wanted to say to them. Heat stung her eyes unbidden. Somewhere in her chest, she ached. In fading thoughts, she reflected that it was sad the last thing she'd feel was heartache. Of course, she couldn't actually feel her heart anymore.
It took her a few seconds to realize what that meant.
Her eyes abruptly shot wide. No, she couldn't feel her heart anymore. She shouldn't be feeling anything anymore. Yet there it was, hot in her breast, stinging with a yearning. Impulsively, she reached out with fingers of will to grasp it.
The feeling burst through her in a rushing flood, liquid heat filling every pore, coming in a torrent. No, that wasn't right: the heat had always been there, waiting, she was only now coming to see it for what it was.
She could feel the orb still in her hands. She willed the fire in her back to straighten, and it obeyed, shuddering upward with her puppet's strings haphazardly reforged. She opened her eyes. The walls of the house seemed to shudder around her, buffeted in a silent gale as she lifted her hand. The burning eye of the jewel stared back at her as she held it in her gaze, her hair whipping against her cheek. She wasn't sure if she could manage to throw it, but she had come this far. With all her determination, she piloted her arm back, then hurled it with all her power towards the courtyard.
The orb dropped from her hand and sailed just two feet from her fingers before clattering to the floor, coming to a stop. The brilliant emerald fire flickered, then sputtered, then abruptly was extinguished, plunging the room into darkness.
Belle wobbled, relief flooding her, the feeling of heat fading. Her hold on it weakened, her heavy-feeling frame wobbled. She didn't want to fall forward, closer to the orb, and kilted back. She felt herself falling, felt hands catch her. Strong hands.
"Congratulations," Yuki said from somewhere above her. "You passed."
"Fuck you," Belle slurred, though it sounded like 'flurf fuu'.
"You're welcome."
She could hear the sirens of an emergency vehicle whizzing by on Diamond street a few blocks over before fading into the background noise. Salvation might as well have been on the other side of the universe.
She tried moving again. Again, her limbs refused to listen, her body twitching as if she were bound into a straightjacket. The only muscles that seemed to have anything left in them were the ones that were keeping her slumped back from collapsing completely.
Panic rose up, clawing at her throat, strangling all thought. She knew she had to relax, had to think of a way out of this, but the tentacles of terror had wrapped her up, squeezing coherent thought out, leaving nothing but a tangled jumble of chaotic fear, one thought rising above the churn:
Shit. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Oh shit.
She thought she was ready. Just get training from an old woman, no matter what the cost? What a stupid ass thing to think. She wasn't that tough, and this wasn't a cartoon. Why hadn't she really let go of that wall? Obviously, she told herself, because she believed deep down that Yuki would only hurt her. All of what she was saying and thinking before was bullshit. Saying you were ready to die was easy until you were staring down the barrel of a gun. She shivered.
Was this who she really was, underneath everything? Was this how it was going to end?
No.
The thought cut through the rest like the edge of a gleaming sword, silencing the storm. The worry, the fear, the doubt, drowned out by a singular will:
Fuck no.
What was going to happen later, she couldn't think about that. Whether Yuki was even telling the truth or not, that was pointless. All she had to do now was one thing: MOVE.
Taking a distressingly shallow breath, she tried to recall the focus from before. It was difficult. Adrenaline still surged through her veins, and though the twitching of her muscles had been muted by the stone's power, the primal urges of fight and flight still clung like annoying cobwebs to the corners of her mind. She tried to shake them off, the muscles of her brow furrowing just slightly as she strained.
Her finger twitched again. She focused all her might, all her will on that digit. She tried to visualize the movement. She tried to detach herself from the act. She tried to pretend that she was pushing with grunts and strains all the energy in her body past her wrist.
Another finger twitched, then another. It was starting to work. Beads of sweat poured down her face as she tried to lift her hand. The orb in her palm pressed down, pinning her hand to her lap. It felt like trying to lift solid lead.
Still, she managed to command her arm to move. With a wheezing groan, her entire body trembling, her eyes rolled up as she lifted the ball a fraction of an inch. It was still no good - she had to lift it above her lap before she could drop it away. Her arm abruptly gave, the hand dropping back down. She didn't feel pain - only an all-encompassing numbness, phantasmal, as if her hand and arm were barely there at all.
She panted, drenched in sweat. How long had passed? It couldn't have been more than ten minutes, could it? Her fingers haphazardly clasped around the warm stone burning with her life's essence. Her eyes crossed behind narrowed lids as she hauled, her teeth gritting weakly. The stone rose again, then again - just a little more, she repeated to herself, over and over and over, desperation and determination fusing into a white hot point, stabbed again and again into the unyielding wall before her. With each mantra, it lifted. It was above the edge of her waist now. Almost there. She just had to move it-!
Her arm dropped again, and this time, so did she. In silence her body crumpled, falling forward like a puppet with its strings cut, trapping the sphere between her stomach and hands. It pulsed warmly against her.
The sun crept lower, more and more of the courtyard falling into shadow. Her body no longer existed to her, save for the uncomfortably perceivable beating of her weakening heart and the creeping cold that pressed in. Was it happening sooner than Yuki had said? Maybe struggling had just made things worse.
So cold, she thought, as the world swam black. So cold, like that day...
~+~+~+~
Rain pounded down on the leaves overhead, soaking through and dripping in thick drops around her. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, clutching tight as the drenching cold whistled in through the thick tangle of bush branches. Her tears mixed with the rain streaking down her cheeks, her sniffles muffled as a peal of thunder cracked overhead. Was anyone looking for her? Probably not. They'd never find her, anyway. She'd ran and ran, and now even she had no idea where she was.
She cried out. And suddenly, someone answered. "Don't be afraid," the voice said, and a hand reached through a hole in the bushes. It was a voice she trusted. With a trembling hand, she reached out to take it, clasping hard. It pulled her free and into a protective arm.
"I won't let them hurt you."
~+~+~+~
Belle felt a smile curl the corners of her lips. If they hadn't been there, what would have happened? What direction would her life had taken? She had never told anyone, but what she really most wanted in the world, more than anything, even more than going home, was to see that person again. And selfishly, maybe, when she did, to be able to be the hero for them that they had been for her.
It looked like she would never get that chance. 'I'm sorry,' she wanted to say to them. Heat stung her eyes unbidden. Somewhere in her chest, she ached. In fading thoughts, she reflected that it was sad the last thing she'd feel was heartache. Of course, she couldn't actually feel her heart anymore.
It took her a few seconds to realize what that meant.
Her eyes abruptly shot wide. No, she couldn't feel her heart anymore. She shouldn't be feeling anything anymore. Yet there it was, hot in her breast, stinging with a yearning. Impulsively, she reached out with fingers of will to grasp it.
The feeling burst through her in a rushing flood, liquid heat filling every pore, coming in a torrent. No, that wasn't right: the heat had always been there, waiting, she was only now coming to see it for what it was.
She could feel the orb still in her hands. She willed the fire in her back to straighten, and it obeyed, shuddering upward with her puppet's strings haphazardly reforged. She opened her eyes. The walls of the house seemed to shudder around her, buffeted in a silent gale as she lifted her hand. The burning eye of the jewel stared back at her as she held it in her gaze, her hair whipping against her cheek. She wasn't sure if she could manage to throw it, but she had come this far. With all her determination, she piloted her arm back, then hurled it with all her power towards the courtyard.
The orb dropped from her hand and sailed just two feet from her fingers before clattering to the floor, coming to a stop. The brilliant emerald fire flickered, then sputtered, then abruptly was extinguished, plunging the room into darkness.
Belle wobbled, relief flooding her, the feeling of heat fading. Her hold on it weakened, her heavy-feeling frame wobbled. She didn't want to fall forward, closer to the orb, and kilted back. She felt herself falling, felt hands catch her. Strong hands.
"Congratulations," Yuki said from somewhere above her. "You passed."
"Fuck you," Belle slurred, though it sounded like 'flurf fuu'.
"You're welcome."
Uh oh. Those boys got me all tingly...
![[Image: ezgif-1-a370e630e1.gif]](https://s7.postimg.cc/elmiaogd7/ezgif-1-a370e630e1.gif)
I must calm it.
I must calm it.